


I don't wanna see you cryin' anymore

by sunflowerbebe



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Cheesy, Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Fever, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I do not want to edit this anymore so here we go, I love when men are vulnerable, I will always come back to my roots, Insecurities, Inspired by Music, Light Angst, M/M, Monophobia, Phobia, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, briwoon my forever love, dont roast me I know this is cringey, i cant help it, if that wasn't obvious by now, if you dont know what that is then dont look it up for the sake of suspense, mention of anxiety, mention of vomit, or at least my attempt at suspense lol, sick, slightly touch starved dowoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26678512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerbebe/pseuds/sunflowerbebe
Summary: Dowoon has to stay home alone with a fever.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Yoon Dowoon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82





	I don't wanna see you cryin' anymore

Everything was going wrong.

It started when he slept through his 7am alarm, only to wake up to a pounding headache half an hour later.

After a few minutes of willing the pain away in the pitch-black, thinking he had a few more hours until his alarm rang, Dowoon finally checked his phone. He gasped, nearly giving himself whiplash with how fast he sat up.

“Shit! Shit shit shit shit-“

He scrambled to untangle himself from the sweaty sheets turned cold, stumbling to the bathroom to clumsily splash water on his face. His nose was already clogged from sleeping through the first night of a nasty cold, and he groaned.

Dashing back to his dark room (he had a habit of keeping the blinds shut), he checked his phone again before throwing on a jacket and tripping into the first pair of sweatpants he blindly felt for on the floor.

Speaking of, he ran back to the bathroom to get his contacts.

A minute passed of messily rummaging around until he hastily straightened up, confused. Lifting a hand to his hot forehead, he squeezed his eyes shut. _Please be in my bag, please be in my bag, please be in my bag._

He stuffed his phone in his pocket, scanning the bathroom one last time before rushing to the door. Of _course_ he had to stub his fucking toe on the kitchen half-wall, hissing in pain as he pulled his foot up and fell to his knees where his backpack was waiting.

Unzipping both pockets, he fished through the blurry contents: books, music, gum, wallet, candy wrappers, pencils, charger, sticky notes, coins.

No contacts.

Frustrated, he shoved the backpack aside, turning to his stick bag to fruitlessly repeat the process.

“FUCK-”

No one was actually home to tell him to watch his language or not to run inside as he bee-lined back to his room (careful to watch his feet this time). _Why didn’t anyone wake me? Is nobody here?_

Anxiety started to creep up.

With only 10 minutes to 8, he cursed again and flung open the bedside drawer. He didn’t have to see to know what was there, and groaned as he grabbed the case. The world sharpened into focus as he slipped his glasses on, fumbling to run back to the door and leave. He pulled on the motorbike helmet, coming very close to forgetting his shoes, before not bothering to zip up his jacket and heading out.

The cold winter air, exacerbated by his speed on the bike, pierced straight through his chest. He regretted not taking those extra 15 seconds to throw on anothervlayer, feeling like his heart was going to freeze right where it was racing in his chest. It was a painful and shitty sensation, especially with a borderline fever. Now that he’d been at it for a few minutes, his fingers were going numb. At least it wasn’t snowing.

The studio building was in sight before he knew it. Successfully pulling into the lot, he jumped off the bike before the engine’s rumble even had time to sputter out, locking it and pulling out his key-card in one swift move.

Bursting into the Day6 basement practice room, he was met with an unwelcome rush of _more_ cold air, sending a shock up his spine, and a startled yelp.

“Oh fuck! Jeez Dowoon, I thought you were fucking SWAT or something.”

Dowoon shut the door more gingerly, apologizing vaguely in Wonpil’s direction. “Sorry, sorry.”

They were the first words he’d said all day (besides cursing), and he swallowed uncomfortably around them. He sounded unfamiliar, too rough and too scratchy, throat thick with phlegm.

Pulling off the helmet, hair already plastered to his forehead with cold sweat, he kept his head down as he ducked behind the drum set. Now that he’d somehow made it on time, one minute before 8, he had a second to assess his state. Still in last night’s clothes, hair a bird’s nest, puffy eyes shrunk by the glasses, face most definitely red, panting from the earlier scramble and slightly but obviously anxious; all in all, a hot mess. He slapped his cheek lightly to try and chill out.

He didn’t realize he’d just been sitting there zoned out, even after the sound of the hyungs warming up died away, until he heard his name on Younghyun’s lips.

“Earth to Dowoon?”

Dowoon snapped his head up. “What?”

Younghyun waited for a second, expecting an answer to a prompt Dowoon hadn’t caught, before smiling and repeating himself. “I Like You?”

Blinking hard, Dowoon nodded matter of factly.

“Same.”

There was a silence, the other four processing, until Jae snorted and they burst into laughter.

It took another second of Dowoon looking around like a lost puppy for Younghyun to get out, “the song Dowoon, the song,” between breathless laughter.

“Oh! Oh-” His face quickly heated up more than it already was, and he scratched his neck. ”Yea, I know that, uh, song.”

Apparently that was the wrong reaction, because the giggles that had just started to die down came back twice as strong, and Jae doubled over in the best kind of laugh as Sungjin shook his head.

Despite how shitty he felt, his heart did warm hearing the other four dying laughing.

“Ahh Dowoon-ah,” Wonpil laughed out, holding his stomach. “Oh my god. I literally can’t tell if you’re being serious."

Dowoon weakly smiled as he shrugged his heavy backpack off (he’d forgotten he’d been wearing it this whole time). He reached down for a pair of sticks, still trying to smile even as he winced when a throb shot through his head.

Looking back up, he locked eyes with Younghyun, and his failed smile fell as he realized Younghyun hadn’t missed that. Dowoon looked away, sniffling loud.

Sungjin spoke up. “Your cold is getting bad, right? If you need a break it’s ok. Are you getting oxygen in your brain? Don’t lose your mind, we need a drummer.”

Jae and Wonpil chuckled at that, but they waited for Dowoon’s response too. Unfortunately, they knew all too well how easy it was for Dowoon to hide exhaustion.

“Yep, I’m fine. Plenty of oxygen.”

“Ah, your voice…” Wonpil sighed. “Don’t talk too much, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Dowoon did his best to give a reassuring thumbs up, knowing he sounded awful.

He ignored the drip of sweat already running down his temple and counted off the song.

The first half of rehearsal was rough. Everything was off.

First, his set-up. If he’d gotten to the room early like he usually did, he would have had plenty of time to fiddle around with everything until it was just right. Perfectionist? Maybe. A habit he should break? Maybe. A habit he was ready to break? Nope.

Second, his glasses. He couldn’t go even a few minutes without being reminded why he hated them so much. They kept slipping down and he had to keep pushing them up every few minutes, sacrificing one hand and throwing off his whole vibe for a few beats. It was incredibly annoying.

Third, he couldn’t feel his hands, most likely his own fault for not putting on gloves when he drove.

There were too many things that were just.. _off_. He was cold, but he was hot. He couldn’t feel his hands, but he felt his heartbeat in his eyes. The high-hat was too close, but the ride was too far. Younghyun was looking at him, but it was out of worry. The sticks were brand new, but he had a splinter.

He ended up closing his eyes for the entirety of the next song. It was so loud.

By the time they got to their halfway break, he was panting from breathing through his mouth, nose completely blocked. He let the sticks fall to the floor with a clatter as he reached for another tissue (he’d proactively brought the now full trashcan up next to his seat).

Luckily, nobody called him out on the shitshow that was his playing, and he sighed as he sank to the floor. Thankfully there hadn’t been many more opportunities for everyone to hear how sick he was either.

He closed his eyes again and listened to the others milling around, grounding himself.

“Hey.”

Dowoon gasped, causing Younghyun to pull his hand back with a jolt too.

Dowoon whined, slapping his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Shit, you fucking scared me.”

Younghyun laughed lightly. A welcome sound. “Did you sleep ok? You can’t even keep your eyes open.”

“Yep.” Dowoon reached out to hold Younghyun’s hand.

Younghyun frowned a little, watching his chest heave. “Your voice..”

Dowoon shook his head, world swaying. “It sounds worse than it is.”

“You know I know you don’t feel good.”

“You know everything.”

“So you admit you don’t feel good.”

Younghyun stayed crouching next to Dowoon, who shrugged and closed his eyes again.

He pressed a kiss to his fingers.

“Ah-!” Dowoon tugged back. “No. You’ll catch it.”

“I don’t care.” Younghyun grinned and kissed Dowoon’s hand again, and again, and again, and one more time, before holding it up to his cheek. “You’re cold.”

Dowoon shook his head, but didn’t argue or pull away. Younghyun didn’t miss how Dowoon was fighting to keep his eyes open, and quietly murmured, “I think you should go home.”

The younger kept his eyes closed as a frown creased his forehead. “Why?”

“Because you’re sick, baby. You can hardly breathe.”

“Look, I’m fine. I’m just tired. I’ll stay.”

Younghyun squeezed his hand, sighing. “Well, I’m not gonna let you, and neither are they, because you’re going straight back to bed.”

Dowoon opened his eyes, looking up to see if the others were watching them. He realized everything was blurry, and stood up, tingles shooting through his palm where he let go of Younghyun, to take his glasses from where they were on the snare.

Finally Younghyun smiled. “I wish you wore those more often.”

“What, my glasses?” Dowoon laughed his new sad, choked up laugh as he linked pinkies with Younghyun. “No way.”

Wonpil couldn’t seem to get past his voice either. “You sound awful, Dowoon. Go home, please.”

He turned to the others, suddenly feeling defensive. “And if I don’t?”

Jae scoffed jokingly. “Brat.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry. Anyone can see you’re not doing so hot. Take it easy.”

He shook his head again, room swaying again. _I gotta stop doing that_. “No, it’s fine.”

Wonpil stepped over the electrical cords to steady him. “It’s just us. You get sick like, once a century anyways. Don’t worry.”

Dowoon chewed his lip, looking back at Younghyun. _Hyung. Side with me._ “I really don’t want to.” 

Jae quietly added, “You’ll feel better.”

He swallowed another no, knowing that it would come out sounding too pathetic. At the same time he was sort of begging someone to notice his unease. _Younghyunnie hyung. Come on._

Sungjin broke the small silence. “I’m actually kind of relieved you’re sick. I was starting to believe you’re not human.” That earned him a glare from Younghyun, sending laughter rippling through all of them but Dowoon. “Just go home. Take care of yourself.”

Dowoon stared at Younghyun, trying to get him to look at him, to side with him. _Hyung._

Younghyun finally turned his head, smiling softly, and mouthed, “It’s ok.”

He could tell Younghyun knew what he was worried about.

And he could tell Younghyun really did think it was ok. Even though it really was not ok. _I'm so stupid. This is my fault for not telling the whole truth. Ok. I'll just have to suck it up for now. Just suck it up, Dowoon. It'll be.. fine._

Not wanting to drag it out when at this point he was obviously losing, Dowoon gave in. “Ok. But you forced me to.”

The rest nodded vigorously. Younghyun hugged him.

As much as he might be looking forward to staying in bed, he was really not looking forward to spending the whole day alone. Especially without Younghyun.

Usually on days like this they’d both be busy all day. Emphasis on _both,_ and _all_ day. So even when they had separate schedules, Dowoon would be preoccupied in a group.

Now, lying in Younghyun’s dark room passed out on the bed, he was very much alone. And very much aware that he was very much alone.

It wasn’t Younghyun’s fault. Dowoon hadn't been honest with him, and now look where that’s gotten him. _Fucking Christ. Nothing works out the way I want._

When he’d gotten home, he’d quickly showered before pulling on another version of essentially the same lazy outfit and stealing one of Younghyun’s hoodies. He would have preferred to be in his arms, but this was the next best thing.

Luckily, he managed to fall asleep before his thoughts could really start racing.

When he woke up, he somehow felt worse (if that was even possible), brain pounding and fingertips numb. He rolled over clumsily to check his phone.

The blue light was abrasive, but he forced it close to his face to read. 3pm _. Holy shit._

He had new messages.

10:48am from : 💘younghyunnie hyung💘

-babyyyy

-how are you feeling?

-text me when u wake up

-and thank you for staying in, I know you don’t like it

-love u

2:00pm from : 💘younghyunnie hyung💘

-until when are you going to sleep???

-jk lol sleep as much as you want

-you deserve it

-and you probably need it

-wonpil says he is bored w/o you lol

2:30pm from : 💘younghyunnie hyung💘

-miss u

-if youre up you can text me to keep your pretty head busy

He blushed in spite of himself.

1:49pm from : 🐰wonpil hyung🐰

-yah

-are you alive??

-eat something~~ you can order domino’s w my account 🍕🍕🍕

2:05pm from : 🐰wonpil hyung🐰

\- “Let’s play 8-ball”

1pm from : 🐣jae hyung🐣

-your boyfriend is out of control

11:35am from : 🐻sungjinnie hyung🐻

-feeling better?

-call kang bra when u wake up

1:12pm from : 🐻sungjinnie hyung🐻

-this is you

-attachment.jpg

He opened the image.

It was a picture of a glue bottle, but with the brand crossed out and replaced with a scribbled “ _Day6’s_ ”. Day’s glue. _Day's glue._

That made him feel better.

He let the phone fly out of his hand to land somewhere on the bed and sat up, waiting for the dizziness to pass before cracking all his bones in a hardly satisfying stretch. The dorm wasn’t hot, if anything it should be cold this far into winter, but he was on fire in the hoodie and reluctantly slipped it off. Padding his way to the bathroom, he opened the tap to wet a towel and listen to the water.

But the sound echoing through the apartment kicked him with the painful realization that the dorm was quiet.

The room was perpetually swaying, and the longer he stood there, the more he felt like throwing up.

He just barely fell to his knees in time to retch into the toilet. When he gasped on accident it made him choke and cough for another minute while begging his body not to throw up again. To no avail, as he dry heaved again, and again, before finally feeling the edge come off. He sat back on his heels, closing his eyes for a minute as he tried to catch his breath. _What an awful day._

Grunting, he struggled to stand up much faster than he probably should have after that, in a bit of a rush to just lie back down. He glanced in the mirror before quickly looking down as the cold water ran over his hand under the towel, dry mouth tasting gross.

He stumbled back to Younghyun’s room before the nausea had another chance to set in, not sure if it was from anxiety or the fever or probably both, and sat on the bed, hugging the hoodie to feel better. He missed his cat. And his dog. And his boyfriend. And his mom.

Tears threatened to spill out for too many reasons to count.

Stuffing a tissue up his nose, he fell back onto the pillows and slapped the towel on his head. The cold felt good on his forehead, even though he forgot to wring it out and water was dripping everywhere. He opened his phone again.

3:26pm to : 💘younghyunnie hyung💘

-just woke up

-I miss u too ☹

He didn’t know what else to say, so he held the phone to his chest like a lifeline. It lit up immediately.

3:26pm from : 💘younghyunnie hyung💘

-yoooooooooo!!!!!!!!

-how are u feeling?

-im still on idol ra so I cant call. off in 5 min

The excited voice rang out through his head, and he tried to focus on it.

-why are you texting me then?

-bc I can

There was another message but his head was spinning, and he was forced to let his arm fall on his stomach for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut to focus on breathing. _1, 2, 3, 4._ Risking a peek, he glanced down.

-how are u feeling now?

-my head hurts like crazy

-:( you got tylenol?

-cant get up. I keep passing out. I just threw up

-but that’s fine

-im just kinda freaked out

-because of the other thing

The tears that had been stinging the backs of his eyes ran hot down his cheeks, and he couldn’t hold back anymore.

-since im sick I guess im going more crazy

-hyung it’s so quiet

-Im alone

-I cant do this

-im scared

-i need you

-please

He put the phone down again, burning up.

Younghyun widened his eyes and looked up from his phone, gears suddenly spinning a mile a minute.

The show was basically over. They were just taking pictures.

“Youngjae, I need to go. Now.”

The younger DJ blinked back, obviously taken aback by the usually calmest-in-the-room-Younghyun’s tone, but managed to stutter out, “W-what?? Is everything ok??”

“Everything’s fine. But I have an emergency. Cover for me if anyone asks.”

“Wha-“

“I’ll make it up to you!”

He didn’t hear Youngjae’s response as he dashed out of the studio, pushing past the staff while repeating “it’s an emergency it’s an emergency it’s an emergency” like a broken record

Just as he breached the studio exit, he heard his manager call out, “Younghyun-ah where are you going?!”

He stopped and spun around to face the out of breath man.

The words piled out too fast to be comprehensible. “I _need_ to be at the dorm right now so can you tell director hyung that I’m not gonna be at the shoot at 4? Please.”

His manager seemed just, if not more, as alarmed as Youngjae had been. “What?? What’s going on?”

Younghyun jogged in place. “Please! I’ll make it up to you.”

The older man ran a hand down his face, eyes scanning Younghyun’s expression. “Younghyun-ah just tell me what’s going on. Please.”

“Dowoon is sick in bed by himself.”

The manager paused. He rose an eyebrow at him. “… That’s it?”

At that, a switch flicked in Younghyun’s brain, and now he was really starting to lose his composure. “I don’t think you understand that I need to go. Right. Fucking. Now.”

“That’s not an emergenc-“

“IT IS A FUCKING EMERGENCY-”

It really wasn’t to anyone else, he recognized as he stopped himself mid-yell. It was just a nasty fever, that wouldn’t even be the biggest deal. It wouldn’t be a big deal at all. Even though Dowoon had a headache, and he was cold, and he hadn’t eaten, and he’d thrown up, it would be fine. It would be fine.

If it weren’t for the colossal fact that Dowoon was all alone.

With a fucking _fear_ of being alone.

It wasn’t supposed to be bad. Dowoon told him it was fine. Told him it rarely came up, that he could handle it. That he should promise not to tell anyone else because it was embarrassing, and he didn’t want to be judged, and it wasn’t important enough to worry everyone.

But Dowoon also had a bad habit of downplaying shit. And Younghyun should have known.

The texts had sent him into overdrive, and he was so damn _frustrated_. He should have listened to Dowoon, should have payed attention to the look in his eyes that morning, should have stayed home with him, should have had the brains to realize that being sick would make any phobia worse (no matter how “not bad” Dowoon told him it was). He should have _known_.

As the one person who Dowoon trusted to tell, he should have been more responsible, should _be_ more responsible.

Why did he brush it off like it was nothing? The one time Dowoon actually seriously sought him out, and he was going to let him down if he wasn’t already. Then what? Dowoon would be sad, maybe his temperature would rise more, maybe he’d really pass out and hit his head, maybe he’d throw up again, maybe he’d have a panic attack. What if Dowoon never trusted him again? What if he never came to him for help anymore? What if his phobia got worse, because of Younghyun? What if he hurt Dowoon? What if he couldn’t fix this? What if Dowoon realized he deserved better? What if what if what if what if what if-

He knew he was over-analyzing and being plain dramatic, thoughts anything but coherent, but what the fuck. He was worried.

Funny how he had nothing to lose before Dowoon.

Tears of frustration started pricking at the corners of his eyes as he balled his hands into slightly trembling fists. He couldn’t read his manager’s face, but he knew he probably thought he was such a pussy for getting worked up over this.

But that wasn’t the case at all, as his ever-so reliable hyung, satisfied that Younghyun was more than dead serious, glanced back at the tens of staff running towards them before tossing the car keys at him.

“Breathe.”

And with that, Younghyun was out the door, leaving his manager standing there to wave off the staff calling out to Younghyun. The man shook his head in disbelief as he pulled out his phone to sort things out. _He’s lucky I’m his manager._

By the time he was opening the front door, Dowoon hadn’t sent another text, which meant he’d either passed out or was about to. He needed to know, needed to see his face. Especially after that mental trip _._ But he did have the sense to at least take a few seconds and calm down outside of Dowoon’s room. One anxious guy was enough.

He knocked twice before opening the door.

“Dowoon-ah?”

Dowoon’s room was just as messy and cozy as ever, but.. there was no Dowoon. Younghyun peeked back out at the kitchen, and then the main room. A few tense seconds passed before he heard a soft “here” from across the hall, and quickly rushed to open the door to his own room.

“Dowoon-ah?”

Younghyun flicked on the light.

“Oh gosh.”

He rushed forward, processing as he did. At the moment, Dowoon had a tissue stuffed up his nose, a towel sliding off his head into his eyes, hair damp and stuck to his equally damp pillow, bed sheet hanging off the bed, and was breathing all weird and labored. The situation was worse than he’d thought.

Younghyun reached out and touched his hand.

Dowoon started to sit up, towel falling the rest of the way off his face.

“No no no don’t get up, it’s just me,” Younghyun repeated as he gently pushed him back down.

“Oh thank god.” Dowoon gargled out, making Younghyun hold back a grimace.

“Man, why do you sound worse?”

Dowoon coughed, gesturing to his throat as Younghyun peeled the wet towel off of his forehead, and gripped Younghyun’s hand where it was resting on his shoulder.

“Are you ok?” They both knew he wasn’t just asking about the fever.

Dowoon turned his head so his cheek was pressed against their hands and nodded.

Younghyun bit his lip as he pushed Dowoon’s hair back to check his forehead, hissing when he nearly burned himself. He took the forehead thermometer Dowoon had left on his bedside desk, and sighed in relief when he saw the number. 101.

“Hyung my nose.”

“Oh, right. Uhm, hold this.”

He pushed a tissue gently up to Dowoon’s leaking nose, waiting until the younger reached up to hold it there.

“How’s your stomach? You said you threw up?”

“It hurts.”

“Ok. What about your head?”

"It hurts."

Younghyun nodded. He murmured, “Ok. Be right back,” and added, mostly to himself, “How did you get so sick?” _Why did I let you get so sick?_

He quickly turned to go soak the towel.

Younghyun left the door open. Dowoon honestly wanted to call out for him to stay, but that would be pretty stupid and childish, because he was coming right back anyways, and he was doing all of this for Dowoon, and he’d come all the way back from MBC just to take care of him. Maybe it was better he’d left. Now that Dowoon found himself tearing up, whether from the kindness, the anxiety, the fever, or all three he couldn’t tell, he did need a minute to collect himself. Or try to.

Younghyun ran the towel under the bathroom tap, chewing his lip. It was so stupid of him to leave Dowoon alone in the first place. Even if it was just the fever, which was worse than he’d realized, but especially because he was bed-ridden and couldn’t practice or game or do anything except sit there and let his thoughts run wild.

He couldn’t believe himself. Was he really that tactless? As the only person in the group who actually knew about Dowoon’s fear, _however_ rarely it came up, did he really not have the decency to look out for him once in a while?

When he noticed his eyes watering, snapping him out of his self-deprecating train of thought, he took a deep breath and put the towel down to lift his fingers to his pressure points, whispering under his breath, “it’s fine, you’re fine, he’s fine. He’s fine.” His phone pinged.

4:13pm from: jae hyung

-you ok?

Younghyun raised an eyebrow and whistled low, impressed, before texting back.

-you have a sixth sense you know

-hahaha no, manager hyung texted me. you ran out?

-yea lol I had a moment

-over dowoon right

-is he better?

-he will be

-can I call?

-yup

Younghyun pressed call and lifted the phone to his ear as he slid down against the wall to sit on the cold tile floor. He pressed his forehead to his knees, squeezing them to his chest to stop himself from shaking.

“Briannn.”

He let himself smile. “Jaeeee. Where are you guys?”

“Studio.”

“Mm.”

The line went quiet for a second, the sound of still-running water filling the space, before Jae prompted. “You ok?”

 _I don’t know._ “Yeah.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I feel so sorry.”

There was a surprised noise from Jae’s end. “Why? You didn’t do anything.”

Younghyun shook his head. “ _Exactly._ He told me he couldn’t even get up. I shouldn’t have left him alone in the first place.”

“Dowoonie? Well he’s ok now, right?”

“I don’t know. I feel awful. I’m such an idiot.” He resisted the urge to selfishly spill Dowoon’s secret.

Apparently his frustration was all too obvious, as Jae easily caught on. “Take a deep breath. Your voice is shaking. I know you’re upset, but he’ll be fine with you there, right? It’s not your fault.”

 _But part of it is-_ “Ok. I’m just mad at myself. I don’t even know. I can’t help it. I guess I’m fucking weird.”

Jae hummed. “Not weird. That happens when you care, Bri. Just don’t drive yourself wild. Is everything good with your schedule though?”

“I guess. I’ll probably have to apologize to a bunch of people later. I have like a zillion missed calls from manager hyung.”

A muffled voice in the background seemed to distract Jae, who returned after a short exchange. “Sungjin wants to talk to you.”

Younghyun nodded before remembering Jae couldn’t see him, and quickly replied, “Ok.”

“I’m putting him on, bye.”

“Bye.”

There was some rustling as he assumed the phone was passed to Sungjin.

“Younghyun?”

His shoulders subconsciously relaxed at the sound of their leader’s voice. “Hey.”

“So you’re not filming? Everything ok?”

Younghyun almost to god cried right there at the endearment in Sungjin’s voice. “Yeah. I skipped to take care of Dowoon.”

Sungjin sighed. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us? We’re basically free.”

“Well…” _Because I want to be the one that protects him. Because I’m a selfish bastard and I can’t let myself let him down. Because I don’t wanna fucking lose him. Because I want him to trust me, to know he can trust me._ “Well, he said he needed me.”

There was a pause. Younghyun swallowed dryly, forcing his brain to shut up.

“Are you keeping him cool?

Younghyun blinked. “What? Uh- yea, yes.”

“Give him an ibuprofen.”

He balanced the phone between his shoulder to open the medicine cabinet. “Ok.”

“Make sure he eats.”

“Ok.” Younghyun hastily scrambled to his feet and grabbed a glass, putting it under the tap with one hand and using the other to fish around between different bottles.

“You take something too, because I know you’ll catch it.”

“Ok.”

“And Younghyun.”

“What?”

“You’re not an idiot. And..” Sungjin paused, taking a deep breath. “And you’re not gonna lose him. You’re not gonna lose Dowoon.”

Younghyun’s mouth parted in surprise.

Before he could reply, the leader added, “He’s not gonna leave you.”

Younghyun stuttered something incomprehensible for a moment, before hardly managing to murmur out, “I know. Thank you.”

Sungjin seemed to want to end the conversation quickly, embarrassment probably taking over. “Alright, I’ll call you later.”

Younghyun felt his heart warm, however surprised he was. Did he just witness their tsundere leader mustering up the courage to reassure him in his relationship? He wouldn't tell Jae, but it somehow meant more coming from Sungjin. “Ok. Bye hyung.”

“Bye.”

Dowoon put his head in his hands. Even through the ringing in his ears he could still hear Younghyun talking.

_What the fuck did I do?_

The tissue fell into his lap, and he batted it into the trash weakly. He tried to focus on his senses like Younghyun always told him to, but it backfired, as from the bathroom he heard more muffled bits of conversation, “ _-so sorry- I feel awful- I'm such an idiot- zillion missed calls-skipped to take care of Dowoon-he said he needed me-_ ”

 _No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no-_ This was all his fault. If he had just fucking shut up for once and been a little stronger Younghyun wouldn’t have had to worry, wouldn’t have to feel bad, wouldn’t have gotten in trouble. Why was he always the one fucking everything up? Why did he always seem to be the cause of the problem?

And why the fuck was he _still_ freaking out?

He was tipping over the edge. Fast.

“Hyung?” His voice didn’t carry.

“Hyung-” The panic was burning hot in his chest. _No, no, no, no-_

“Hyung!!”

“What??” There was a clatter in the bathroom before Younghyun rushed in.

“What? Oh-”

Younghyun dumped the supplies in his arms onto the bed side table and took Dowoon’s reaching hand, rambling out, “It’s ok! It’s ok, it’s ok, I’m right here.”

Dowoon choked for air, concentrating on the warm contact in his hands.

“Breathe honey, breathe with me. I’m here. In, and out. We got this.”

He nodded shakily, doing his best to copy Younghyun as held back tears tried to escape.

“Slow down, slow down.” Younghyun whispered.

He felt Younghyun move slightly, and whimpered softly. Younghyun held Dowoon’s hand up to his heart, letting him feel the steady beat, using his free hand to gently wipe Dowoon’s face with a tissue. In any other situation, or with any other person, Dowoon would be violently self-conscious about the snot and sweat and flushed face and everything else, but at this point he was far past the point of caring, coughing as he tasted blood in his throat from the scream.

“You think I’d ever let anything happen to you? Nothing to be scared of.”

Dowoon opened his eyes to hang on to Younghyun’s, gasps gradually quieting.

After a minute when he’d caught his breath, heart rate slowing to match Younghyun’s, he sucked in one more ragged breath before whispering, “You missed a schedule.”

Younghyun blinked, then smiled sheepishly.

“Ah, you heard that? Yeah, I ditched YBC. ’Scuse me baby.” He placed Dowoon’s hands in his lap, satisfied that Dowoon had calmed down, and gingerly pushed Dowoon’s hair back to feel the heated skin, lingering on Dowoon’s cheek for an extra second.

“Why?” Dowoon asked. He was looking up at Younghyun, who cracked a smile.

“What are you talking about. To see you, duh. When you texted me I literally dropped everything. Manager hyung was sooo pissed.” He chuckled as he kept pressing gently on Dowoon’s pressure points, just like his mom had taught him to. “It was actually pretty funny. I was like, running from all the staff and shit like a movie or something. Is this feeling ok?”

“Why did you do that?”

“I just told you. To come see you.”

Dowoon frowned. When Younghyun laid the towel across his forehead, a wave of relief pouring over him, he almost broke.

“Take this.” Younghyun handed Dowoon the Tylenol, helping him hold the glass of water to swallow it. “You're burning up. And you really lost your voice huh. Don’t talk, ok? Have you eaten?”

Dowoon shook his head.

“Ok, I’ll go make you something. Don’t move.” Younghyun ruffled his hair (not the most satisfying ruffle, as Dowoon’s hair was borderline soaked, but endearing nonetheless) and turned to fix something up for his boyfriend. _Noodles? No, soup would be better. Or maybe-_

“Wait-!”

Younghyun froze where he’d started walking away, wrist caught by a clammy hand, and turned, eyes a little wide. “.. But you need to eat..”

Dowoon pulled his arm weakly. “Stay.”

An understanding smile slowly spread across Younghyun’s face. “I’ll leave the door open so you can see me, muffin.”

“Please-”

And suddenly everything was _really_ too much, and Dowoon was thinking about being alone again and the rehearsal and his headache and throwing up and Younghyun missing work. Because of him.

And then, as he watched Younghyun’s smile fall through blurry eyes, again because of him, he couldn’t hold back the sob that finally ripped its way out from his lungs.

Younghyun gasped, rushing back to Dowoon’s side to cup his face. “What?! Oh no why-”

The floodgates opened as Dowoon choked out another raspy “ _Stay._ ”

Younghyun’s voice rose a few pitches before he caught himself and softened his tone. “Ok! Ok, ok, I’m staying.” Younghyun climbed over Dowoon to lie on the bed with him, easily pulling him into his lap while being careful not to move him too much. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s ok.”

“It’s not-” Dowoon sucked in another series of short breaths, trying to argue. “It’s not o-ok, I-“

“Alright, alright, it’s not ok. Don’t talk.” Younghyun pressed a kiss to the top of his head gently, consoling the both of them. _I hate when you cry_. “It’s good to cry.” _But I love you so it’s ok_. “Don’t bottle it up.”

“Why did you-“ Dowoon broke off to muffle a sob into Younghyun’s chest. He was so warm, and Dowoon was so cold. All he wanted was to stay in his arms forever.

When Younghyun spoke, it sent vibrations through Dowoon’s head. “Shh. Let’s not talk right now, let’s just breathe.”

He nodded, too exhausted to give a shit that he was ugly crying through desperate gasps, clinging to Younghyun’s shirt.

Younghyun carefully moved the hand Dowoon wasn’t holding up around him to scratch his scalp soothingly, holding him tight like he knew Dowoon appreciated. He let Dowoon squeeze his fingers as hard as he wanted, not saying anything even when they started to cramp. “In, and out. In, and out. I’m here. I’m right here.”

When the sobs ebbed to sniffling, Younghyun asked again.

“Why are you crying?”

Dowoon kept his face hidden against his chest and shook his head, “I’m so sorry.”

From the way those three words shattered his heart, Younghyun had to strongly hold back the urge to shake Dowoon’s shoulders and scream at him to never say sorry ever again. Instead, he quietly asked, “For what?”

“You’re gonna get in trouble. Because of me.” Dowoon inhaled shakily. “I didn’t know you had a recording. I’m sorry.” He pushed out the exhale, almost like he was forcing himself to breath.

Younghyun rested his chin on top of Dowoon’s head, right next to where he was still playing with Dowoon’s hair, not caring that the soft curls were damp from sweat and his fingers were getting tangled. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about that, and I’m not gonna get in trouble. Don’t worry. Are you still scared? Are you ok?”

Dowoon ignored him. “I don’t want you to do stuff like that anymore. Not for me.”

Younghyun smiled dryly. “You know your wish is my command, but that’s a no-can-do.”

This time Dowoon spoke up a little, or as much as he could, lost voice cracking. “You were calling yourself stupid, and- Because of me-! This is all my fault, I- I don’t deser- I’m sorry.”

Younghyun bit his lip, staring forward at Dowoon’s legs crumpled between his, and whispered back. “Don’t say sorry. I talked to Sungjin. I’m fine. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. Things just happen sometimes, ok?"

He waited, just to make sure Dowoon didn’t retort, before adding, “And you do deserve me. You deserve love.

You deserve the world.”

Dowoon’s breath hitched. Younghyun asked him to breath again, but he shook his head. "I'm ok. It's just...."

"What baby?"

"..No one’s ever said that to me before.”

Younghyun sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or sad to be the first.

Before he could reply, Dowoon suddenly popped his head up to look at Younghyun, expression unreadable. “But I lied to you. I didn’t tell you the whole truth. About my, uh, thing.”

Younghyun frowned. “You didn’t lie to me. It’s a big deal, a phobia. It’s ok if you didn’t want to tell me how bad it is. And I know now anyways.”

Dowoon murmured back, “I think- I think I’m just crazy with this fever. Don’t tell the others, please.”

Younghyun nodded, letting Dowoon have his way for now. “Ok. And while we’re apologizing, I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously this morning.”

Dowoon shook his head against Younghyun’s arm. “It’s fine. You didn’t know. I didn’t tell you.”

Younghyun sighed. “Ok. Thank you.”

Dowoon's face contorted like he was trying not to cry again. “Why are you always so nice to me? What did I do-“

“Because you’re my whole world, Dowoonie.”

Dowoon spluttered, quickly looking away at nothing in particular. Younghyun stuck his tongue out at the dumbfounded expression, pinching Dowoon’s cheek. “You didn’t know that already? You’re ridiculous.”

Hands quickly scrunching up the fabric of Younghyun's shirt, Dowoon flopped his head back down as Younghyun kissed his head again.

After a few minutes of lying together, enjoying each other’s existence and calming down, something started scratching Younghyun’s thumb lightly. Only after another few scratches did he realize it was Dowoon, and he chuckled.

“That’s me.”

Dowoon’s finger stopped. “Oops. Sorry. I’m blind.”

 _Oh yeah._ Younghyun looked around. “Where are your glasses? Ah-” He stretched to reach the discarded glasses on the other side of the bed. “Here!”

Dowoon slowly and halfheartedly thanked Younghyun, staring at the glasses for a second as the older waited impatiently.

Younghyun nudged him. “Put them on?”

Dowoon complied.

Younghyun ducked down to see his face. “Look at you! You’re so cute. I’m glad you took them out today.”

“I wouldn’t have, but I lost my contacts.”

He bit back a sly grin. “Well~~ until you find them, you can wear your glasses!”

Dowoon groaned, slumping further down against Younghyun. He wrapped Younghyun’s arms around himself like a sweater. Or a seat belt

Thinking about his lost contacts and how everything had gone downhill from there, he started tearing up again. _How the hell do I even have more tears left to cry at this point? Jeez Dowoon, way to go._ "On top of everything I just had to lose them. Today’s been awful. Everything-“ He held his breath, trying to stop a whimper from slipping out.

Younghyun’s thumb froze where it had migrated to Dowoon’s shoulder and he peeked down, eyes widening when he met Dowoon's bleary ones. “What? Oh no don't cry again, wait no I’m sorry -“

Dowoon started crying. “Stop saying sorry, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Is this because of the contacts?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh no- No I should really say sorry." _Nice one Younghyun._ “Dowoon please don’t cry, I, uh, I have them.”

The younger immediately turned to look up at Younghyun with his reddened eyes. “Really?”

Younghyun looked away. “Yea, well, the thing is..” He swallowed dryly. “I, uh, well..” Dowoon was looking up at him, eyes wide and innocent, and oh god he felt guilty. “I stole them.”

“… What?”

“I hid them in my bag. Before you got up.”

“… Why?”

“I wanted to see you in your glasses." Younghyun grimaced at his answer. It sounded laughable even to him.

“What the fuck hyung.”

“I told you I needed to say sorry! It’s just that you never wear them even when I ask, so, I don’t know, I guess I thought it was a good plan.” _I'm weak for you in glasses._

Dowoon slapped his hand lightly. “Don’t you think that’s too much?”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

Younghyun nearly burst out laughing. It was so hard for Dowoon to stay upset. “Well let me make it up to you.”

Dowoon shook his head. “You don’t need to do anything. You’ve done enough for me already.” He started coughing.

Younghyun sat them up slightly, patting Dowoon’s back through the coughing fit. “But what do you want? I can give you something.”

Even though he cleared his throat, his voice came out raspy. “You do too much for me.”

“Come on!” Dowoon winced at the volume of Younghyun’s overexcitement, to which Younghyun immediately lowered his voice to a whisper. “Sorry. I was just saying like, I mean, it’s only right that I apologize somehow, right? There must be something you want. Anything.”

Dowoon looked down at Younghyun's fingers intertwined with his as he thought about it. “Ok. Then… Let's cuddle forever."

Younghyun chuckled. “Gladly." 

"And play with my hair."

"I'm already doing that."

"Well keep doing it. It feels nice."

"That can't be all."

"And sing me something."

"You’ll fall asleep though. And then I won’t be able to annoy you.”

Dowoon frowned. “You said anything.”

Younghyun giggled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I know, I know. I was just kidding." He started to move Dowoon off his lap to get up and turn off the light, but stopped when Dowoon tensed and scrambled for his hand. “What?”

"You don’t have to worry about the light." Dowoon pulled his hand towards his chest and looked away. "Sorry I’m so crazy today.”

Younghyun shrugged, leaning back again to let Dowoon attach himself to him. “Not a problem. You could be crazy every day and I’d still love you.”

Dowoon gasped. Younghyun quickly looked down to make sure he was ok, but furrowed his eyebrows in confusion when he found Dowoon just staring at him too, eyes wide and a shy smile creeping onto his face.

He realized with a pang that it was the first time he'd smiled all day.

They were so close Younghyun could count Dowoon’s eyelashes, his cheek burning Younghyun’s where they were almost touching.

Dowoon whispered, “Hyung. I think this is the first time you’ve said you love me.”

Younghyun shrugged. “You already knew.”

But with the way Dowoon was smiling properly for the first time all day, Younghyun felt like saying it again. So he did. “I love you.”

Dowoon covered his open mouth with a hand, but Younghyun could still see the smile in his eyes, and cocked his head. “Does that make you happy?”

“Of course!”

“But you already know! Don’t I tell you all the time?”

“Not like that! Not just with me. Just _for_ me.”

Younghyun must have been too visibly confused, because Dowoon’s smile softened, and he added, “I’m too tired to explain. It just makes me feel really nice. And special.”

He couldn’t help himself and leaned in. Dowoon put two fingers up to his smiling lips so that when Younghyun closed in, he kissed the fingers.

Younghyun opened his eyes with a frown. The cute expression made Dowoon’s eyes crinkle, and he whispered, “You’ll catch it.”

Younghyun smirked. “Then you’ll say you love me, and make me feel really nice and special.”

Dowoon shook his head, but conceded, “You’re already special,” as he let Younghyun pull his hand down, sighing into the kiss.

“I missed you hyung,” he whispered between breaths.

Younghyun pulled back to look into his eyes. “Me too.”

Dowoon had apparently had enough as his eyes squeezed shut and he raised a hand to his forehead, grimacing a little as another throb probably pounded through his head. With his thumb, Younghyun did his best to massage where he thought it would help, but froze when Dowoon’s eyes fluttered open.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that his brain short-circuited when they made eye contact.

He’d stared at Dowoon’s eyes for countless hours (a little creepy, maybe, but it was one of his favorite things to do so whatever), and he knew every look, every meaning. He knew nobody’s eyes were like Dowoon’s; nobody’s eyes showed that much emotion, that much vulnerability. Or maybe it’s just that he didn’t know anybody else’s eyes the way he knew Dowoon’s.

But now Dowoon was looking at him like he was the only person in the world, and he wasn’t sure if he knew this look. Or at least he’d known it so intensely before. And it was making his heart explode.

Dowoon’s lips started moving, but he could barely hear the quiet voice, and looked down just in time to watch the words form.

“I love you.”

_Oh fuck._

A dark blush creeped its way up his neck to color his entire face, and he didn’t realize his jaw had dropped until he realized Dowoon was stifling a giggle trying to push his jaw up with a finger. “But you knew that already, right? Dummy.”

He only snapped out of it when Dowoon smiled again, and oh _wow_ what a smile.

“I feel like shit. Kiss it better, hyung.”

Well damn, who the hell was he to say no? Completely smitten, he grinned, pressing kisses all over Dowoon's face.

“Give me your hand.”

Younghyun did, sidling his hand up to reach Dowoon’s so he was wrapping him even more securely in his arms.

“Give me your other hand too.”

He rolled his eyes, but immediately brought his hand down from Dowoon’s hair to do so. “I like when you tell me what to do. It’s cute.”

“Shut up.”

Younghyun snorted softly, careful to keep it down now that he was literally right next to Dowoon’s ear.

The way Dowoon was leaning his head against him, Younghyun couldn’t help but stare. Yes his face was flushed and shiny from sweat, yes his dark circles were almost purple, yes his black hair was sticking up in all different directions, yes his cheeks were stained with tears, but yet.. “You know, even though your hair is plastered to your forehead and you're a snotty mess, you’ve never looked lovelier.”

Dowoon scrunched up his nose. “Stop it.”

Younghyun did not stop it. "I don't get it. You're cute even when you're sick. Adorable even."

“I can’t take this right now. Just sing please.”

“But you’ll fall asleep, and then I won’t be able to annoy you,” Younghyun pouted through a grin.

Dowoon opened his eyes with some obvious effort, but copied the grin much to Younghyun's delight. “No, I’ll listen, I swear.”

Younghyun pressed one more kiss to his ear, mumbling, “yessir,” even though he knew Dowoon would be fast asleep before the chorus hit.

_I don’t wanna see you cryin’ anymore_

_I don’t wanna be the reason you can’t trust me like before_

_My head’s in my hands as I’m shaking on the bathroom floor_

_I don’t wanna see you cryin’ anymore_

_I don’t wanna see you cryin’ anymore_

_I just wanna be the reason you can smile ‘til you’re sore_

_Unless it’s something beautiful or joy you can’t control_

_I don’t wanna see you cryin’ anymore_

**Author's Note:**

> I FINISHED A FIC!!!!! HUZZAH
> 
> Hello! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Inspired by: [I don’t wanna see you cryin' anymore](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4p97SCXMrpw) by Adam Melchor  
> This is one of my absolute favorite songs. Do check it out for some satisfying ear therapy.  
> Tbh this fic is not a perfect fic to the lyrics as you will see (this fic has a happy ending, but the song is more ambiguous), but the song is just too good not to share ahaha  
> also inspired by this [pinterest prompt](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/658229301780956561/) and [this one](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/658229301778778916/)
> 
> Also, if it wasn't clear, I use italics to symbolize inner thoughts and sometimes important words. Just to push the point when someone’s not saying what they really feel, etc etc. Hope it wasn't too confusing
> 
> also I started writing this after idol radio had just started which is why younghyun still works there in this
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading! Have a wonderful day and stay safe
> 
> (btw I want to start posting more but all the stuff in my wip is taking so long. soooo if you have any ideas for something shortish (like 1,000 to 6,000 words) let me know in the comments!)  
> if u read this far I love u 💖💖stay safe


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